


Salt and Sand

by spockitty (the_unseen_one)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Force Visions, Gen, Stream of Consciousness, written and edited solely between the hours of 1am and 6am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_unseen_one/pseuds/spockitty
Summary: Obi-Wan dreams of fire.





	Salt and Sand

Obi-Wan dreams of fire. Not every night. Not all the time. But the flames are always there, waiting, in his dreams. He sees them burning up everything he loves (and he is a jedi, jedi are not supposed to love but he does anyway with an intensity that makes his soul ache). He sees them burning up everything he hates (and neither do jedi hate but no matter how he tries to purge it the feeling seeps up from inside him like blood from an open wound). He sees the flames consume the one he loved above all others, the one he should hate but cannot bring himself to, even now. 

(His heart feels as though it will tear itself from his chest with every beat and he cannot breath from the pain of it and he is a jedi and jedi do not—but there are no jedi, not anymore and it is the fault of this monster that he loves and—) 

Sometimes Obi-Wan dreams he is in a vast desert that stretches farther than the eye can see (and he can breathe again but only because there is room for his lungs to expand in the hole where his heart once was). He sees sun-bleached bones scattering the dunes and knows they belonged to friends and foes alike; just as he knows there are too many for him to ever count. 

(Sometimes he thinks the desert itself is made of bone, that the sand is skulls and femurs and humeri ground to dust by the wind, that the shimmering air above it is their ghosts come back to haunt him.) In these dreams the flames take the form of twin suns, relentlessly beating down on him (and he knows if he stays under them long enough they will burn away his past and his name, will strip his very flesh from his bones and leave them to lay amid the countless others.) 

(He cannot help but think that this is what he deserves.)

One constant in all his dreams is that he is alone (why is he alone he is a jedi and jedi are not meant to be alone there is a reason jedi work in pairs there is a reason the word jedi does not have a singular form). He is alone and he has been alone and he will be alone (his master always told him to live in the present but what good that when the present/past/future is the same and always is/was/will be?) He thinks he has shed enough tears to fill an ocean, but the desert is greedy and all that is left in his wake is a salt waste, barren and inhospitable. 

Obi-Wan wakes. He is (in his rooms in the temple; he is in the rooms he shares with his master; the rooms he shares with his padawan. He is an initiate in the creche, where he has lived his whole life). 

(He is in the desert, where he has lived for as long as he can bear to remember.) 

The dream fades, as all dreams do. It felt familiar, as if he had dreamt it before, but he could not say why this was or how he knew. He can feel (the sand between his teeth, the ache in his chest, the salt tracks on his face) the light of the force, can feel its warmth enveloping him. He smiles, breathes in the morning air. His heart beats, strong and steady.

(For now.)

**Author's Note:**

> “And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?”  
> “Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.  
> ― James Luceno, Labyrinth of Evil


End file.
